Defending the Dark: Why I Love the Horror Genre
October, I love you. Ever since I was young, I’ve been fascinated by the macabre. The thrill of being momentarily unsettled or filled with dread through art—whether a book, movie, or TV show—is something I’ve always chased. My household had minimal censorship, so I was exposed to a wide variety of adult content, for better or worse. Watching John Waters movies, reading Stephen King, Anne Rice, and Clive Barker at a young age made quite an impression on my little developing brain.
I recall watching Rosemary’s Baby at 12 with my dad, captivated by the idea that a satanic cult could be behind something as seemingly joyful as pregnancy (is anyone concerned about the Rosemary’s Baby prequel that’s in the works? I am). The film challenged the notion that motherhood and the nuclear family are always safe and comforting. It also made me want a pixie cut, which is a whole other type of horror - I don’t have the bone structure for that.
The horror genre is often dismissed as tawdry, misogynistic, nihilistic, and simply gross. But I believe it is far more expansive and nuanced than it’s given credit for. The genre often goes beyond just blood and guts, using subversion to make a deeper statement. The horror art form can provide deep insights into fear, trauma, and human nature by tapping into our unspoken fears. Horror gives us a way to face what scares us in a safe setting, often leading to a sort of emotional release. Dark fiction often reflects and amplifies the current cultural milieu. Whether it's fears about tech, the unknown, or big changes in society, horror can show us what's on people's minds and highlight the issues of the moment. It’s also profoundly punk rock in its defiance of societal norms and its ability to upend expectations.
How could you not love the cast of misfits the horror genre brings to life? In Stephen King’s Pet Sematary, lovable pets come back from the dead with a sinister edge. In Rachel Yoder’s Nightbitch, a new mother suffering from postpartum depression turns feral. Carrie, tormented by high school bullies and a fanatical, unloving mother, unleashes her rage through telepathy. Virginia Feito’s Mrs. March depicts a woman trapped in the upper-middle-class hell of superficial days filled with shopping and dinner parties, leading her to a mental breakdown. In My Year of Rest and Relaxation, the heroine, overwhelmed by grief, decides to take sleeping pills for an entire year to escape her ennui. American Psycho explores the horror of the American Dream through Patrick Bateman, a despicable Wall Street executive whose obsession with wealth, status, and decadence spirals into a paranoid nightmare.
As I've grown older, I've become much more comfortable with myself and my interests. I used to feel like a bit of an outsider for liking what I did, and I was even a little ashamed. I'm thrilled to see the horror genre gaining popularity and receiving more recognition. My hope is that it retains its unique edge and charm. Embracing what you love simply because you love it, rather than because it's trending, is freedom! For me, it’s about creativity, finding beauty in the strange and the offbeat. So, to all my fellow thrill seekers, lone wolves, pumpkin spice enthusiasts and fall aficionados: embrace what you love, life’s short. Happy Spooky Season!